Fierce Green-Eyed Warrior (WIP!)
by FireLily01
Summary: What happened when the concept of the Hunger Games was still new? Join Huntress, District 8's female tribute, as she chronicles her adventures in the 11th Hunger Games, while still holding on to her passion: writing. On the battlefield, the fierce, green-eyed warrior appears, but what happens when that mask is gone? And what happens to the scared girl she cannot let anyone see?
1. The Arena

**Author's Note: Hi! This is my first story (that I've published on here, not that I've written) so reviews and feedback are appreciated! Actually, reviews and feedback are always appreciated, even if it's not my first story :P Anyway, this is a Hunger Games fanfiction about the 11th Hunger Games. DISCLAIMER: Only the characters (including character dialogue and actions) are mine. Hope you enjoy! Here!**

THE DANK CAVE BREEZE swoops through my auburn hair, ruffling it and sending a chill down my spine. I'm inside the cave that is now my home, sword in hand, wondering what happened to me. Picking off citizens, twenty-four every year… it takes real heartlessness to do that, something only the president has.

I hear a bloodcurdling scream, the harshness cutting through the air like a sharp knife, the cannon sounding, that awful ear-shattering sound that I have grown accustomed to. So there goes another one.

I was torn at first, the thought of killing people unthinkable, but eventually I realized something: It's me or them. So I just take my sword, catapult it at my target, and hope to get over my guilt. I'm taking lives, after all, and all those hopes, dreams, fears, talents… lost forever. I doubt that I'll ever forgive myself if I do end up emerging alive, which isn't that likely.

The Hunger Games, after all, is a horrible merciless thing. And even worse is the fact that I know some of these people, most of them either friends or enemies I knew from the interviews, the training center.

I find that it's not any easier to kill enemies than friends.

My one ally is the male tribute from my district, a boy named Matthew. He's about an inch taller than me, with fiery red hair and deep brown eyes. He's definitely not tame. In fact, he doesn't think twice about killing.

I'm not sure if I'm any different, the way I keep myself from feeling remorse by reminding my brain of the lethal weapon they fought me with, bows, knifes, crude spears hewn from fatally sharp rocks and thick tree boughs.

And I suppose if I really am doing this, creating a first-hand account of my time in the Games, I should introduce myself. So I will.

My name is Huntress and I am the future winner of the eleventh Hunger Games.

I know there is no time to be writing, but I am not one to abide by rules. The paper came from the unusually large leaves that block the sky from view; the words and letters from scratching sharpened sticks into the thick green leaves.

I can tell this is not normal from the way Matthew stares. The way he looks at my leaves with disgust. His long, searching looks when he gazes at my face, trying to find the reason behind my actions, trying to find that fierce, green-eyed warrior I become on the battlefield.

They might not know it, but I am a writer at heart. No matter how the fierce, green-eyed warrior on the outside acts. I am an artist, crafting pictures with my words, creating whole lives with simple letters. And I will not let the Gamemakers take my stories away from me, as they have everything else: my family, my friends, my life.

So I resorted to this small form of rebellion.

Writing a story.

It may not be much, but it is mine.

And to me, that is all that matters.


	2. Starry

**Author's Note: Ahh okay that turned out kind odd, what with the leaves and stuff, but yeah.**

Should I go out there or not?

Should I take part in the bloodbath involving District Two and Three?

Should I put the warrior's mask back on?

These questions swirl through my head as I perch on my tree, debating whether or not to reveal myself. I want to win. I need to win. I need to make myself toss my knife at her head.

But most of all, I'm painfully aware of the fact that my little internal quarrel is determining the fate of someone's life. It is over soon, however, because Starry hurls her spear at her opponent's face, gouging out his left eye, causing blood to burst from his wound. He screeches in pain, tackling Starry and pinning her to the ground, punching whatever part of her he can reach. Rivulets of thick, scarlet liquid gush down her nose, and I stare in horror, unable to take my gaze away. But she flips him over her shoulder, recovering from an apparently broken nose quickly, quicker than is normal, and digs her spear into his right eye.

Screams split the air as blood gushes down his face, mixing with tears.

I have just witnessed someone be blinded.

I think it is best to put him out of his misery, so, aiming carefully, I direct my knife at his neck. It's quick, severing his head from his body with a whole lot of gore and another earsplitting cannon.

Starry's head whips up to me, but I'm already gone into the trees, running away from the mess I caused, running away from the fierce, green-eyed warrior I am becoming.

Back at the cave, I'm trying to convince Matthew of our predicament. "We need to leave. Pack up and move camp," I insist, but he refuses. "No! The cave is perfectly fine!"

"No, it's not. What if Starry comes? What if ANYONE comes?!" I yell at him, gathering my leaves, not caring if anyone hears us.

"Then we'll fight. We're not chickens, Huntress!"

"Whatever, Matthew. I'm done," I sigh, and, making sure to grab a good bit of the nuts and berries we'd collected plus my leaves, storm out. And mere seconds later, I hear a faint "I'm sorry," and flaming pain erupts in my back, consuming everything, fire coursing through my veins, head suddenly aching, something wet dripping down my back.

Blood.

Footsteps dash off. Matthew.

The little backstabbing two-faced traitor can't face me. He thinks I'm going to die.

He's probably right. I'm going to bleed out, if I don't die from pain first.

The world swims in a sea of green and brown, and I collapse on the ground, just managing to claw my way into the cave, concealing myself from view.

Hopefully.

Because the last thing I hear are footsteps and a gasp.

 **Hehehehe cliffhanger huh? Dunno if anyone's actually following this story, so I guess it doesn't really matter if there IS a cliffhanger, but still... if anyone ends up reading this, HI! I'mma writer! Aaannnd also it's 11:41 PM so I gotta go; see ya!**


	3. Onyx

**Introducing a new character, whose name I really love. Actually, I tried to get my mom to name our dog Onyx, but she said no and now our dog is Cosmo. Not complaining. But seriously, the name is so simple but powerful and strong at the same time. It's awesome. Plus it's a gemstone, which is supercool. Also, thanks SparkALeahGuest for the review! It means a lot :D**

* * *

The first thing I am aware of is sunlight, warm and calming against my face.

And the second thing is the pain. The blinding, fiery pain. A gasp of agony escapes me and I writhe on the ground.

 _Matthew._ That heartless murderer. He tried to kill me, even though we _were_ childhood friends. Even though we've known each other forever.

There's a voice.

"You're awake."

It's a calm voice, a low voice, dark somehow. Brooding, I think, is the word? "Huntress." Just my name, like it holds power, like it is a magical spell that he is uttering - he? My brain realizes that unknown voices in the Hunger Games equal danger.

Equal death.

I scramble up on my knees, reaching for my knife and coming up empty-handed. Defeated, I look up at my attacker, wondering who has bested me, wondering who has defeated the fierce, green-eyed warrior who is not what she seems.

And I take in a breath quickly. Because this is not who I was expecting.

This is not Starry. This is not Hawk - Starry's fellow District 1 tribute.

This is a boy with black shaggy hair falling in his eyes - I'm not sure how he convinced his stylists not to cut it - and dark eyes the color of obsidian. This is a boy gazing down at me calmly with those eyes. This is a boy who I have seen before, in the training center.

This is a boy who is about to kill me.

"Get away!" I yell, managing to stand up on my own two feet. The world swims and I collapse back down, shivering violently. But this cannot stop me. I lunge at him, prepared to kill, when his hand lands on my shoulder and gently pushes me back down onto the ground so I'm lying down. Fear surges through my body and my eyes widen, gazing at this dark-haired boy. I can see myself reflected in his eyes.

I am about to die.

"J-just make it quick," I beg. "Please."

Understanding dawns on his tan face. "I'm not going to kill you," he tells me softly. "I'm not going to hurt you, either. It's been three days, Huntress. If I was going to, I would have by now."

This is a strange turn of events. Three days? How many people have died? Did Matthew die?

As much as I despise him now, I cannot bear the fact of him dying simply because of our history - friends, something more than friends for a while., but friends nonetheless. "Is.. is Matthew..."

"He's the red-haired one, right?" he asks. I nod, but he shakes his head. "No, he's still alive. Unfortunately. I saw what he did to you. Hit you from the back. Lying, sniveling little coward."

So he is still alive. A strange feeling washes over me, and I'm not sure if it is relief or disgust. I push it down, deep down, and turn my thoughts to the strange boy in front of me.

"How come you know my name but I don't know yours?" I ask him, and he chuckles.

"Because I saw you during the interviews and you caught my eye. So I decided to find out who you were. I'm Onyx, by the way."

Onyx. Odd name. I haven't heard it before.

"Well, Onyx... are we allies now?" I ask him.

"Yes, Huntress, I believe we are. Now you should probably go to sleep - your wound is pretty deep. I treated it the best I could, but I'm not a doctor - I did get a silver parachute with a roll of bandages, however. That helped."

I protest, sitting up, but that shoots a fresh bolt of pain through my body and I go limp, collapsing again. "I'll take first watch," Onyx tells me. "Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.

It sounds like a good idea.

And I close my eyes, giving myself over to the darkness.


	4. Just Another Killer?

**Wow! I was thinking of this story, but I've only just got around to writing the fourth chapter - and here I was thinking I'd be writing new chapters every day HAHAHAHAHAHAHA no seriously I wanna do that. Anyway, HAPPY THANKSGIVING! I've got writer's block so ideas are APPRECIATED but don't expect me to use all of them (assuming there's more than one, or one at all) or to use exactly what you say . And thanks FireLily01 (I'm pretty sure that's a guest name cuz I don't think people can have the same usernames) for the review! I love getting reviews :D and I'm sure you're great at writing fanfiction! Thanks for the compliment :D Now, ONWARDS!**

I gaze at his back, wondering if this strange dark boy is just another tribute. Just another face in the crowd, just another heartless killer. Like me, the fierce green-eyed warrior. Like Starry, the cold girl who blinded the boy in the woods. Like Matthew, who struck me in the back.

Like every tribute. Every murderer, everyone who must become what they are not to survive.

Look at me, for example. The girl with the heart of a writer. An artist. Turned into an assassin for the Gamemakers' enjoyment, for the Capitol's enjoyment, for the districts' enjoyment.

It makes me wonder what he will do. Onyx. Will he stab me in the back at the first chance he gets? Will he wrap his hands around my throat and choke me to death? Will he gouge my eyes out like Starry and watch me bleed out slowly?

I suppose he has already proved his point, though. If he wanted to kill me, he would have left me where Matthew left me, would have pierced my heart with the knife he keeps at his side, wouldn't have taken care of me or tried to heal me.

He saved my life.

Maybe I should test Onyx. I'll act like I'm being attacked and I'll see what he does. If he tries to help me, he's on my side. If he laughs insanely or doesn't help or whatever, then he's not on my side. Easy enough, I suppose.

I pause, thinking a moment, and then duck, dodging behind a large tree. "ONYX!" I cry, putting real desperation into my voice, projecting despair and terror. "HELP!" Deciding it's a bit vague, I add something else. "IT'S HER, ONYX! SHE'S GOING TO KILL ME PLEASE HELP PLEASE THAT KNIFE IS SHARP!" I shriek, hearing the sound of pounding feet.

Oh.

Either I was a big idiot and called Starry or another tribute to me, or Onyx is coming to my so-called rescue. "HUNTRESS!" I hear. Onyx after all, then.

I wait until he dashes to where I am - takes about fifteen seconds, actually - and walk out from behind the tree. He looks thoroughly confused. "Huntress... you said... but she..." Deciding not to look at him, I contemplate how interesting a nearby tree is.

"Huntress?" His voice sounds slightly angry now, as if he knew what I did. Like he knew I didn't trust him, wanted to make sure he wasn't going to betray me at his first chance.

"Heyyy Nyx... um, I was wrong about Sta-" I stop, noticing the fact that his face is stony and unimpressed.

"All right, all right, I was testing you to make sure you wouldn't leave me to die. I'm sorry, I just... this is the Hunger Games, ya know? The point is to kill," I admit, finally deciding to meet his eyes. They betray his true feelings, the obsidian color warm and understanding.

"Hey, I get it. I'd be a little wary of me too, if I was you. I understand where you're coming from, I just - you just about gave me a frickin' heart attack! Don't ever do that to me again!" he mutters, his cheeks taking on a slight hint of red. I giggle, sitting down against the tree. Onyx follows suit, sitting next to me. I'm extremely aware of how close he is, us sitting together, and it would almost be somewhat romantic if -

BOOM

Another cannon sounds, just about breaking my eardrums, and I jolt back to reality, scrambling to my feet, knife in hand, eyes narrowed. Onyx silently unsheathes a silver dagger, and steps in front of me slightly - just enough so that he is protecting me somewhat, but so that I can still see and defend myself.

It's quiet for several moments, dangerously quiet, but then I see a dark silhouette appear in front of us, growing larger and larger, whoever it is advancing...

I tighten my grip on the knife, mentally running through possible fighting techniques.

The fierce, green-eyed warrior has returned.

 **Well whaddaya think? Review please! And anyone ship Huntress and Onyx? I totally do HUNTRYX FOREVER! aaaanywayyyyy I wanna hear what you guys think!**


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